


It Must Be Nice

by dreamlittleyo



Series: Distress and Disarray [59]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Feelings, M/M, Rank Disparity, Romance, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:48:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21727051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamlittleyo/pseuds/dreamlittleyo
Summary: In which Hamilton experiences unaccustomed quiet.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/George Washington
Series: Distress and Disarray [59]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/995307
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49





	It Must Be Nice

Hamilton is not especially surprised to discover he can't sleep tonight. It's not that he's especially nocturnal, so much as he's never had the patience for shutting down his brain and letting his body rest.

He learned to do a little better at the Academy—of sheer necessity—and has tried to maintain a reasonable sleep schedule since. For one thing, he doesn't need Peggy Schuyler breathing down his neck, making worrisome observations about his fitness for duty. For another, Hamilton will be _damned_ before he lets his tendency to run the ragged edge of exhaustion get someone hurt. A regular sleep schedule may be outside his natural skill set, but he's learned to manage a minimal, functional baseline—to shut his brain and body off when required and force a narrow window of sleep.

Tonight in Washington's quarters, sleep refuses to come. He's tired enough, but he's also riled and giddy and can't quite believe he's here. Naked. In Washington's bed. Sharing space so close he can feel his general breathing steadily. The arm draped over Hamilton's hip is loose and steadying.

He can't stop staring at Washington's face, dimly lit by the light of a nearby nebula that Starbase Twenty-Two's science teams are studying. Beautiful in the eerily colored light.

Fucking hell. He's known for years he has it bad, but this is ridiculous. Washington gave him everything he wanted tonight—Washington touched him, and shared an entire evening locked away in these quarters, and then dragged him to bed all over again—and yet Hamilton _aches_. His mind has successfully followed the turn of events but his heart is struggling to keep up. It's an infernal conundrum: Hamilton is exactly where he wants to be, but part of him still can't credit reality.

Washington shifts faintly, eyes moving beneath heavy lids, and Hamilton's attention is riveted all over again. He wonders what his general is dreaming about. Good dreams, hopefully. There's peace in Washington's sleep-slackened expression—calm in the handsome lines of his face. Hamilton swallows and scoots a little closer, smiling when the arm at his waist tightens and reels him in.

He thinks about how difficult this will be going forward. Worth it—god, nothing else in his life has been more worth fighting for—but Hamilton is too practical to pretend away the challenge before them. He can keep a secret. So can his friends. It's entirely possible they will be able to have this _and_ salvage their careers.

But Washington has already proven himself compromised where Hamilton's safety is concerned—a fact they have to acknowledge and work with, given Washington's position and authority. And there is every likelihood they will be discovered, no matter how optimistic Hamilton wants to be. He needs to be prepared for the worst case scenario and what it will mean for his future with Starfleet.

_I can't ask you to do that,_ , Washington said last night. As though Hamilton could _ever_ let his general suffer such consequences alone. As though he could bear to watch his general _leave_.

His answer was in earnest. It was no marriage proposal, but…

Well. Fuck. Maybe it was, in a way.

Not just a promise, but a vow. Hamilton does not want to imagine returning to a life without Washington. He doesn't want that future anymore. Whatever shape the road ahead takes, he will accept any detour so long as he has Washington by his side.

Dark eyes blink open, peering into Hamilton's face with groggy curiosity. Perhaps surprised to find him so close, or to discover him watching so intently.

The crease at the center of Washington's brow is barely visible in the flickering shadows. "Are you all right?" He tightens his arms around Hamilton and pulls him the rest of the way forward, tucking their bodies together and brushing a clumsy kiss to Hamilton's brow.

"I'm great," Hamilton murmurs. "Go back to sleep."

"Mmm," Washington agrees, his breath already slowing.

Hamilton inhales, low and soft, and allows the quiet in.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: Nocturnal, Infernal, Proposal


End file.
